


The runaways

by Wongywoo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), san/san - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-05 12:10:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wongywoo/pseuds/Wongywoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He saved her from kings landing, he hoped to be the knight from her stories, but then he caught sight of her......</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters they belong to George RR Martin from a song of ice and fire  
My first fan fic, hope you like it, please note I am dyslexic, I do try and take care with spellings and grammer but still occasionally make errors, so I apologise in advance. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The runaways 

 

They had barely made it from kings landing. Even with the cowl covering his face and the little bird hiding beneath his cloak. He was easily recognisable, especially a man with gold on his head, fucking king. Sandor remembered the touch of Sansa hands grasping his sides for dear life, her head pressed into his chest. He had seen it enough, but never had he felt someone shake with fear before. 

She couldn't bear to watch as the men with swords and fire hurdled towards them. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the song mother of mercy, over and over again she sang it. She could hear the clatter of the horses hooves, stranger was galloping, they would make it through this. No horse was as fast or as strong as Sandor's she reasoned to herself. Sansa could hear the clang of swords and the splatter of blood. But she couldn't bear to unscrew her eyes. 

It seemed like hours had passed before stranger started to slow.  
"We're alright now, little bird. The worst is over.......for now" he said in a tired tone.  
She slowly loosed her grip, it was hard letting go.  
"we need to camp up now and have a sleep and the horse needs a rest he's knackered"  
He brought the horse to a stop and jumped off the horse. He held his hand out to Sansa, she grabbed his hand and he assisted her off the horse.  
"thank you, ser"  
" I'm no ser" he said disgusted " hound or Sandor, you pick, I'm not arsed" he said harshly  
Sansa couldn't hide the shock on her face at his abruptness, it felt very improper to call a man by a name rather than a title.

Sandor lead the horse to a tree. Sansa watched as he tied the horse up and fed him grass.  
"make yourself useful girl, get the bedrolls out"  
Sansa did as she was asked, she placed the bedrolls adjacent to each other, she felt safer with him near.  
"We will be setting off very early, can't afford to hang about here, so get some sleep"  
Sansa nodded meekly, she was so used to a hot bath, a full stomach and a clean night garment for bed. Instead, she was cold, hungry and dirty. But she had never felt such relief. Joffrey couldn't hurt her, no maid could spy on her and she could finally express herself without fear,, she could finally grieve.  
She nervously sat up on her bedroll, she had never been alone with a man other than her father before.  
Sandor observed her uneasiness as he sat on his bed roll next to her  
"your safe with me girl"  
"Thank you Sandor, thank you for helping me, I know it's cost you a lot"  
"Spare me your empty courtesies girl, just go to sleep"  
He wasn't interested in her pretending, he needed the escape as much as she did and he knew the gold he'd get from her brother was all the thanks he needed.


	2. Frustrated

Disclaimer: characters belong to George RR Martin 

 

Chapter 2 Frustration. 

Sansa tried to get to sleep for hours, she wasn't used to the noises of nature, nor the hunger bangs that attacked her stomach. She looked up in Sandor's direction to see a mash of jet black hair, he was snoring away. She really didn't want to wake him, but she was so cold, she couldn't just lie here. 

"Sandor,....sandor? "

Sandor slowly opened his eyes and looked towards her "What is it girl?" his tone heavy with annoyance. He could tell it was early hours. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you ser, but I'm so cold, I can't sleep" she could feel her teeth chattering.

"And what do you want me to do about it? It's bout time you toughened up girl, we have a long ride ahead of us today" 

"Please Sandor" she said desperately, how could he expect her to ride without any sleep. 

Sandor sighed, he sat up and pulled the white cloak from his armour and flung it towards her. He then lay down and soon resumed snoring. 

Sansa watched in disbelief, he was definitely no knight. 

 

A few hours had passed when Sandor awoke, he couldn't help but watch the little bird. Her bright auburn hair in disarray, the pink to her cheeks usually hidden by powder and the pretty dress splattered with mud. She looked so wild, so natural and the most appealing to him. Aaahh what was he thinking, he had to snap out of it, distract himself. That's when he heard people walking past with carts. He armed himself with his sword and took off quietly. He hoped this lot has things worth stealing, at least it was a good distraction. 

 

Sansa

As Sansa opened her eyes she saw the hound sitting adjacent to her, she jumped back in start.   
"You best get used to it girl" he said angrily 

"I beg pardon ser, you startled me, I... Did not expect you so close" she said innocently, truth was she had forgotton where she was and seeing his burnt dace and angry eyes had scared her. 

"Eat this, pass water and then were going" he said abruptly. Sandor then threw a pig trotter into her lap. The grease stained her dress but nothing looked more appealing after her hunger pangs.

"Where did you get this?" 

"It fell off a wagon" he said with a smirk on his lips. 

Sansa thought better than to ask for furthur details. She had noticed a red stain on his neck, must be blood she thought, but it didn't look like his.   
After she ravaged the pig trotter and passed water, they were off. Sansa felt uneasy when the hound gripped her round the waist, he could feel her tense.  
"I'm only putting on the bleedin horse" he huffed. He then placed her with ease onto strangers back, followed by himself.

Sansa felt so close to him, her back pressed into his chest, there was no room.   
Sandor enjoyed the aroma from her hair and couldn't resist the lemon scent, it would always remind him of her.   
Sansa couldn't believe how close she was to a man, the previous night she had been to scared to think about it, now it was all she could about. She could feel his thumping heart, it was pumping so fast, if she hadn't known better shed gave thought he was nervous.   
Fuck these breeches he thought. So bloody tight! He couldn't help his arousal. He hoped the little bird wouldn't notice. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman, with all the battle plans and training the ranks for Stannis, he had been too exhausted to visit a brothel. Well now he was paying for it! Now he had the best looking girl in the land sitting between his legs, wiggling every time she got uncomfortable with an enticing lemon scent. Fuck! This was going to be a long and hard ride, in more ways than one.


	3. Sansas misjudgment

Disclaimer: characters belong to george rr Martin

 

Sansa wasn't used to riding for this amount of time. She was sure she was developing saddle sores. She couldn't help moving around to release the pressure.  
Oh not again, thought Sandor.  
She was driving him insane! "Will. You. Stop. Moving" he said angrily  
Sansa stopped abruptly. She felt her eyes brimming with tears. All he had done was shout at her all morning. She felt hated by him. She wished he would have just left her if he regretted saving her so much. She was used to being praised and admired, Sandors brutishness was a shock to her system.  
She gulped "I'm sorry Se, I mean Sandor" she quickly corrected herself "I'm not used to riding this long, I think I'm getting.."  
"Just keep still" he interrupted. He knew the pain, he'd been through it too, but she was going to have to get used to it. That's just how it was. 

Sansa tried her best to keep in the same position, but she couldn't take it anymore! She tentatively placed her right arm around Sandors left side and grasped the armour. She then raised her left leg and moved it from around the horse and placed it to the side with her other leg. She was sitting side ways, cuddling into Sandors left side. The relief was instant.  
Although he wouldn't admit it, he enjoyed how much closer Sansa was to him, much more than he should have.  
Sansa looked up into his eyes awaiting him to tell her off.  
"Comfy now? Little bird"  
Sansa nodded.  
Those tully blue eyes softened him.  
"Good, finally no more moving"  
"You don't mind?" She asked timidly  
If only she knew my thoughts he chuckled to himself. "Anything to keep you from moving about"  
Sansa rested her head on his breast plate, she felt her eyes becoming heavy, the lack of sleep catching up with her.  
When Sansa snoozed off, Sandor wrapped his left arm around her and rested his head next to hers. He listened to her light breathing. He could do anything he wanted to her and she would be powerless to stop him. The thought scared him, he didn't want to hurt the little bird. Blasted breeches, his body reacted so strongly to her it was becoming unbearable. He would have to take himself in hand. 

It was late maybe even early hours when Sansa awoke. As she looked up she realised she was on a bedroll, Sandor must have placed her there, but where was he? She felt a panic jolt through her. She was then alarmed by a deep grunting noise. She knew she should stay there but curiosity took hold of her. She slowly got up and walked towards the sound. As she walked deeper into the forrest, she saw a shadowy figure by a bush, near a stream. Sansa clung onto a nearby tree. It was Sandor. She listened as he grunted. 

"Aaahh Sansa" he said with release  
Sansa felt the shock hit her face, her head dropped and she felt a knot in her stomach, she should have stayed on the bedroll. Why did she wonder, she lamented. She suddenly heard rustling....  
As she looked up, Sandors face was coming into view.  
He walked up to her, Sansa felt herself back into the tree. She could feel his breath on her face.  
"What are you doing up, little bird? He said looking into her eyes.  
"You were gone" she stammered "I was looking for you, when I heard.." Sansa stopped as he walked closer towards her. So close, there noses were almost touching. She watched as his arm rested on the tree above her head.  
Sandor then slowly stroked his other hand through her hair, down her face and neck, all the way to her waist. Sansa jumped at the feel of his fingers. No man had ever touched her this way, she felt a jolt flush through her body as his fingertips kept going lower and lower.   
He couldn't help but stare at her plump lips, he was so close to her, he could smell her hair. He felt his breeches tighten.  
Sansa looked down and saw the bulge, the look of horror attacked her face.  
"A man has needs, Sansa"


	4. Sansa's pain

Disclaimer: characters belong to George RRMartin   
Warning: non/con chapter, you have been warned ! 

 

Sansa's pain 

Sandor took a deep breathe to calm, it had gone too far. She needed to get away from him, if she knew what was good for her.   
"You need to be more careful girl" he said looking down at her, he kept the firm grip on her waist " I'm no knight and no-one can save you from me out here. Get back to your bedroll,... And stay there" he said sternly   
Sansa felt the fear on her face " yes ser"   
Sandor slowly moved his hand from her waist and Sansa hurriedly made her way into the camp. She had never felt so scared. She could feel her body shake. The look in his eyes reminded her of the mob that had her on her back. She shuddered at the thought. She stifled the sobs that broke from her chest. Why did she have to be so weak? so innocent? and so careless? Why couldn't she be brave like Arya? She lay on the bedroll but sleep wouldn't come. She felt to scared. 

Sandor couldn't believe the frustration in him. He had just came but felt his blood rise again, he kept picturing her hand in his breeches, how tight she would be....Aaahh he was driving himself mad, he grunted in frustration. He started pacing, the sooner he took her to Robb the better. He didn't know how much longer he could resist his desire, he had come so close tonight.   
As he walked back into camp, he spotted Sansa wide awake with puffy eyes. She quickly turned her head and faced away. As if that would save you, he thought bitterly. 

 

The next morning they had both actively avoided eye contact and Sandor had quickened the riding pace. They weren't far from the frays. Sandor had heard about the young wolf set to marry a fray back at kings landing. That would be there best bet he thought. Sansa couldn't wait to get home, she longed to feel safe. She had became more aware of Sandor's quick glances and lingering hands. 

It was close to nightfall when they were close to where the wedding was to be held. He knew they must have missed the wedding but he knew they wouldn't miss Robb. As they approached closer Sandor noticed smoke, he felt uneasy to his core. Stranger was pulling against him-he never did this especially not to him. As they carried on slowly he spotted two young men running towards them, he recognised the fear in there faces. He drew his sword, the men abruptly stopped infant of them.   
Sansa squeezed her eyes shut and clutched into Sandor.   
"What are you running from?" He demanded  
The boys saw his and recognised him in an instant, the young boy clocked his sword and gulped " There, there dead, he killed em"   
"What you on about boy?"   
"Walter Frey ser, he killed em, the young wolf and the stark woman"   
"No" Sansa cried. The words twisted in her gut. She felt the blood drain from her face  
" I SWEAR it ser" he said insistently. The young boy watched his blade intently.   
Sandor could feel stranger pacing, he only did this when other horses were near.   
"Hold on tight girl" Sandor bellowed.   
Sansa could feel the horse galloping, he maintained her clasp on Sandor's side. It didn't feel real. She watched the colours blurring as they galloped at speed. She didn't know how long it had been but, she had ran out of tears by the time they slowed. She felt numb. Drained. Hollow. But worst of all....alone. 

 

Days had passed since Sansa had found out about her mother and brother. She didn't feel alive anymore. She had followed Sandor's every instruction without active thought. She didn't know where they were going and it didn't occur to her to ask. She didn't care anymore, there was no-one left to truly care about her anymore. She had constant company in Sandor, but never had she felt more alone. 

They had passed through a small village and Sandor had supplied himself with a few skins of wine and 2 chickens thanks to the previous cart of people he robbed. They ate in silence and Sansa watched on as Sandor drank away.   
"When are you going to snap out of it girl?"   
Sansa looked up at him with daggers in her eyes. She felt her nostrils flare.   
"There dead, gone. Why mope about it?" He said as he finished his skin of wine.   
She wasn't going to say anything but she couldn't hold her tongue, she did enough of that at kings landing, so much so she was sure she had teeth marks bitten into her tongue. Sandor lay back on his bed roll. 

"Because I loved them"   
Sandor sat up and scoffed "love"   
"Yes love, something a man like you wouldn't understand" she snapped viciously   
He glared at her "All love does is weaken you" he retorted " only have to look at your mother to see that!"   
Sansa felt the tears threatening to fall "you're just a brute"   
as soon as she saw his eyes she regretted what she said.   
She watched as he stood up and made his way over to her. She felt her heart beating through her chest.  
He sat down next to her and admired her body, her fiery eyes and matching wild hair. He felt himself harden.   
"I'll show you how a brute behaves girl"

Sansa gasped and she suddenly felt him on top of her between her legs. He pinned her arms to her sides and he got so close to her face she could taste the wine on his breath.   
She felt the tears running down her cheeks "please......please don't" she breathed deeply "please God's help me" she looked deep into his eyes and only saw black.   
"You still believe in the God's and those fairy tails do ya? You think a knight in shining armour is going to save you girl?" He scoffed "Youre at my mercy, little bird and right now, you're mine, whether you will it or not"   
Sansa felt Sandor grasp both her hands in one of his above her head. She felt his free hand feel down her leg to the bottom of her dress. She felt the cool air as he hiked the dress up to her waist. She watched as he undid his breeches.   
"No" she felt the spluttering tears invade her face and her shakey voice break "Please, don't"   
She wildly kicked her legs and knocked him off balance....   
She tried to sit up, to move....  
But he was right there. He pushed her onto her front, her arms pinned beneath her. She felt his weight crush her.   
She listened in horror to the tearing of her under garments.   
She begged over and over again in her head for help, for anyone, anything. She begged and begged him to stop but it was pointless. She was his prey.   
She felt the fire course through her, the gasp breech her lips. Fire. Pain.   
The power of his thrusts pushed her face into the mud.   
She could feel the tears streaming her face, the gasps breaking through her throat at each thrust, she desperately tried to think of a time she was happy, a time it didn't hurt. She tried to focus on childhood memories-the only good times. But all she could feel was pain, all she could hear was his grunts, the feel of his hands grasping her hair. She felt his lips at her right ear, the smell of wine fill her nostrils at each of his breaths. 

She wasn't Sansa to him in this moment, she was a body, a woman's body. He moved his hands over her sides, smooth warm skin. The round of her breasts. He rested his head by her ear, he sniffed her lemon scent "Aaahh Sansa" he said as his release came.   
He slowly withdrew and staggered to his bed roll. It wasn't long before he dozed. 

Sansa just lay there. She curled herself Into the fetal position and held herself. It was in that moment it hit her. Her whole life had been one big lie. The importance of the 'maidenhead' gone, the notion knights save damsels in distress gone, and bad people are rightfully punished. It was all bullshit. She lamented the times she had dreamed of marrying the prince of her dreams and having 3 boys and 3 girls. So stupid. No-one gave a shit about her anymore, all those that did were dead or wanted a title. Sansa felt broke. Empty. Sandor had taken the only thing left of value she believed she had.


	5. Get on with it

Disclaimer: characters belong to George RR Martin 

 

A headache to start the day, fucking fantastic he thought. He'd lost count of the amount he had drunk last night. He slowly stood up and stretched. As he did, he became aware of his opened breeches and a small blood stain. He immediately looked over to Sansa, and saw her, just lying there. No blanket or anything. Just huddled in a baby position. As he looked closer, he spotted her small clothes torn beside her. Fuck he thought. He looked down his breeches and saw the dried blood on his cock.   
Aaahh fuck. What the fuck had he done?   
He slowly made his way over to Sansa.   
He crouched lower to her "Sansa?"   
She shook as she felt him leer over her, oh not again she thought. The panic washed through her. She froze.   
She forced herself to make eye contact with him.   
He could see the fear in her eyes as clear as day.  
"Sansa, did I force you?"   
"Yes" she said coldly   
Fuck! But as if he hadn't already realised what he had done. He felt the shame hang over his head. Gregor did stuff like this not him, what the fuck had been going through his head at the time?   
"I shouldn't have done it" he sighed   
Was that supposed to be his apology she thought mortified.   
"Let's get you cleaned up" he went to grab her hand, as he made contact with her skin, she screamed   
"No!"   
His hand recoiled.   
"I can manage, ser" she didn't want his help. She didn't want anything from him, she wanted to be away from him, for him to never touch her again.   
"Yeah, you look like your doing a fine job of that !" He huffed. He wanted to help her.   
Sansa felt her anger flaring. How dare he. He did this to her, he caused it and yet he thought he had the right to judge her coping. Hear me growl !   
"Well if brutes had self control, I wouldn't be in this position! " she felt the venom seething from her gums.   
She despised him, he had ruined her. No-one would have her know. "You did this! You deal with your handiwork! " she snapped she felt the last of her resolve crumble her tears breaking.   
Sandor was angered at her aggression and her accusations, no-one ever stood up to him in this manner it was unsettling.   
"You think your the first woman to be forced heh?"   
She turned her back on him, it was pointless arguing with him. She was desperate to clean the blood away, the last of the maidenhead. She slowly stood up and started towards the stream.   
"No-one walks away from me" he shouted.   
"What are you going to do? What else could you possibly do, I'm, I'm ruined" she cried   
Sandor rolled his eyes. Blasted lords and ladies, placing value on virginity. So bloody stupid.   
"If you actually think any of the lords that have married were virgins, your an idiot!"   
"You, you just don't get it" Sansa sighed.   
He had forced her, he had pinned her down, he had bruised her, shoved her face in the mud and he thought it was all about her maidenhead. Fool! He hurt her, he used her for his satisfaction and then he had left her, disgraced her like nothing. On top of that, he had taken her maidenhead, she could never get it back, something she would never experience again. Taken because he wanted it, without her consent, without her want. It had never even occurred to her it could be taken against her will before. She felt dirty. She felt ashamed. As she sat in the stream, she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed desperate to wash his smell off her. But it wouldn't go. He as right, she as at his mercy, no knight was coming to save her. No one could save her from him. she used to worry about Sandor seeing her while she washed in the stream, but what did it matter anymore?  
Sansa dried herself off and tended to the horse. She watched as Sandor headed to the stream. 

He felt bad about what he had done. So what was his self defence mechanism? Attack of course. He knew he had done wrong. He felt sick as he watched her blood wash from his body. The worst part, he couldn't even remember doing it. 

As the days passed, he noticed how she had changed, how she had flinched at every touch, how her hood remained up at all times, hiding her beautiful hair. She didn't smile, her courtesies were gone. She no longer smelled of lemons. He had broken her. All the times Joffery had pushed and pushed to break her but she always pushed back.   
But not anymore.


	6. Survival

Disclaimer: Characters belong to George rr Martin 

 

No way, she said to herself over and over again. It was freezing. She could feel her teeth chattering. The wind was thrashing her hair about. She had too. She had to cuddle up to the hound she thought, NO! She shouted at herself, not after what he had done to her. She would rather freeze! Sansa felt her hands and face starting to burn, she knew this wasn't a good sign, she had seen the effects of frost bite before. 

Sandor could see her shivering, it was the coldest night since they had started travelling. He was hesitant to help her at first. He tried to sleep, but all he could hear was her whimpering and chattering teeth. Sturbban fool, he cursed. He stood up and felt the instant cool on his body, he walked over to Sansa and picked her up like a child. She immediately struggled against his grip "NO" she screamed  
He lowered her to her feet. "Don't be a bloody fool! " he shouted in annoyance

"You want to freeze to death do you?"   
"No" she said sharply  
"You don't have to like me little bird, but right now you need me, so deal with it and stop sulking" he said harshly  
He sat himself on the bedroll and gestured next to him.   
She reluctantly sat next to him, going against every sense she had. He lay flat and grabbed her side. Sansa went limp. He pulled her tight to his chest. She rested her face on chest. She hated to admit it, but she felt so much better huddled into his chest.   
"It's only for tonight, little bird" Sandor said sternly "we'll be in proper shelter tomorrow"   
Sansa kept her eyes shut and hoped sleep would come. 

It wasn't long after, Sandor heard her light breathing, she had finally gone to sleep. Sandor couldn't help looking and playing with her hair. It had been the first time he had seen it in days. Beautiful firery red, he stroked her hair down her face, silky soft skin. 

It was early next morning when Sandor awoke, it had been the first night he had slept well. He felt the bulge in his breeches with dread. He had to move away from her before she woke up and felt it. He wished he could take back what he had done.

True to his word, that next day they stopped at the first town they passed. A small inn.   
Sansa relished in the first bathe she had had in weeks. She felt clean, more like her self. As she sat on the bed Sandor entered the room "I've ordered us some tea, should be up soon, but first I'm going to bathe" he said gesturing to the bathroom area. "You can stay if you want"   
Sansa nodded meekly, she didn't want to join anyone downstairs, they were all drunk.   
Sansa watched as he removed his armour and made his way into the bathroom. The thought of him disrobing in there scared her. She still remembered what he had said to her on that night " your at my mercy" 

It wasn't long before the meal had arrived two roasted chickens. Sansa eagerly sat at the little table.   
Sansa couldn't wait to eat, they hadn't had proper meat in a while. But she would wait for him. As she looked up she saw him standing in the door frame. He looked clean, his hair even brushed, covering his facial scar. As he sat next to her, she could smell him, his smell.   
"Thank you for this" said Sansa   
"No point thanking me" he had tucked in and swallowed a mouthful when he said "should thank the rich bastards I robbed yesterday" he chuckled   
"Why can't you just appreciate and accept a thank you like a normal person? Your so hateful"   
"I am who I am, little bird. I'm a killer and I will die a killer. I wasn't taught to chirp empty courtesies like you high borns" he said bitterly   
Sansa felt deflated, she longed for a pleasant easy relationship with him but he would never allow it.   
"We have different skills for survival, Sandor Clegane " she said seriously   
"Aye little bird, we do"   
Sansa watched bitterly as Sandor took a deep swig from his skin of wine and the glint she saw on his eyes, it felt like déjà vu.


	7. Frozen

Disclaimer: characters belong to George RR Martin 

 

She didn't try to resist him this time. What was the point?   
She had been waiting for it. She watched as he finished his last skin of wine. He walked over to the bed and sat beside her. Every few moments, he'd move closer and closer. She felt her head drop. The dread fill her stomach. She watched as he stroked her hair. She looked up at him through her hair.   
"Why?" She searched his eyes, longing to find any emotion other than desire staring back at her.   
"I can't help myself" he said factly.   
He brushed his hand along her face, "I will be gentle, if you don't resist"   
Sansa felt herself freeze. Apart of her wanted to fight tooth and nail. But the other part was realistic, as he had said himself, she was at his mercy. She was waiting, waiting for it to start.   
She wasn't waiting long before she watched him lie her down on the bed. She watched as he unlaced his breeches. The knots tied tight in her stomach.   
She felt the indignity of him pull her small clothes down and spread her legs. She automatically tried to shut her legs but he pried them open effortlessly. She squeezed her eyes shut. It will be over soon, she kept saying to herself.   
She felt him position himself between her legs. Then his breathe as he kissed up and down her neck. Sansa felt the unwanted tingling. The tears were forming in her eyes. No! She shouted in her head, he would not see her cry. She would be strong.   
She felt his breathe as he faced her, noses almost touching.  
"Look at me" he demanded  
Sansa forced her eyes open  
She looked so beautiful to him in this light, even with glazed eyes. He placed both his hands on the sides of her face and planted a kiss on her lips.   
Sansa did nothing. Her arms fixed by her sides, firmly grasping the mattress.   
She heard him spit and felt the moist press between her legs.   
She gasped as he pushed himself into her. Her hands grasped the mattress tighter, her knuckles turning white. She felt her breathes quicken. Why did it have to hurt so much?

In and out slowly. It was slow torture.   
He was savouring every moment.   
It felt so good to him. He snaked his hands all over her body, her soft skin, the curve of her hips. 

It wasn't hurting as much now, she thought with slight relief, she could get through this, she could be brave.   
Sandor could feel her wetness, he groaned with arousal.  
He couldn't help the fierceness that overtook him. 

"Hold on to me" he instructed   
She didn't react.   
He pulled her hands from the mattress and placed them at his sides.  
Sansa gripped under neath his arms tightly with her ear pressed into his chest.   
The felt the thrusts harder and deeper, the tingling in her lower body. The moans were breaking from her throat, her body was betraying her. 

Sandor enjoyed her sweet moans.   
He found the spot that made her moan and thrust quicker and quicker. 

No, no, no, she felt the pressure building and building. Until her release came with a moan. Why? She thought, angry at herself, why did he make it feel good?   
Sandor's release quickly followed. He enjoyed one last tight hold of her before he rolled onto his back with a smile on his lips.   
Oh, did she hate him. 

She sat up with her arms hugging herself. Hunched over, she walked to the bathroom. She shut the door, her back leaning into it. She felt herself slide down the door, until she met the cold hard floor. Her head in her hands, the tears finally fell. She felt so angry with herself, her body had betrayed her, she felt dirty. She looked up with puffy eyes and spotted the shaving knife. She stood up and grabbed the knife. She felt the blade with her fingers.   
She opened the bathroom door. It was time to put a rabid dog down, her father had always taught her, who passed the sentence, should swing the sword.....


	8. But little did she know

Disclaimer: characters belong to George RR Martin 

 

She sat at the edge of the bed, watching him breathe, stroking the tip of the blade with the tip of the index finger. So sharp it drew blood.  
She took several deep breathes, her hands shaking.  
She pulled the cover down to reveal the hounds chest.  
She slowly moved up the bed to his side. She could see his heart beating under his skin. How did a bastard like him have a heart she thought bitterly.  
She hovered her hand above his chest.  
She watched as the tears ran down her nose.  
One.  
Two.  
Three.  
......  
Fuck! She couldnt do it. She could do it. Despite everything he had done to her, she couldn't do it, she was no killer. She roughly threw the blade to the floor and sunk to the floors she was pathetic. Weak. She huddled to her knees in sobs. 

The hound stirred from the noise.  
"The fucks wrong with you?"  
Sansa looked up at him through her hair.  
"You" she said bitterly "you is what is wrong with me"  
He sighed "I've only done to you what a fucking 'lord' husband would be doing to you girl"  
Sansa groggily got up and slumped onto the bed, what could be worse than this? She thought.  
But little did she know....

3 weeks had passed since that night. They were packing up from the inn, when she noticed him staring at her. Sansa eyed him nervously, he hadn't touched her in 3 weeks, maybe he wanted her again,she shuddered with the thought.  
They had been on the road 3 months now and he knew she had only bled once.  
He walked towards her and watched her visibly shudder.  
"When was your last moon blood, little bird?"  
Sansa suddenly looked very pale.  
She slumped on the bed bedside her "ages" she replied  
She looked up at him, tears threatening to fall. She was terrified she knew little about pregnancy and the birthing bed.  
"What do we do?"  
"Too late for moon tea" he sighed. He should have been more careful.  
"Will have to settle somewhere in a few months, you won't be able to ride towards the end, should marry too, unless you want a bastard"  
Sansa felt her stomach drop, if she married him, she would be lost forever. He would have a right to touch her, take her. She did not know what was worse a bastard or a Clegane. She felt so lost...


	9. Reflection

Characters belong to George RR Martin

 

She moved the silver band between her fingers. The day had seemed such a blur. It was nothing like she had imagined as a little girl. It wasn't magical, it wasn't special, it was just another day. Another day in a plain white dress. It wasn't supposed to be this way, why didn't the fairy tail exist? The handsome man, the beautiful dress. She remembered approaching the isle, remembered seeing his scarred twisted face, the bile rising to her throat, at least he looked she thought.   
Sansa could focus on what the priest said.   
The service seemed to drag onward, or maybe that's because she had no feeling for it, no butterflies women spoke of, nothing.   
"I do" she heard the gruff voice   
"Do you take this man to be your husband?"   
Forcing the words from her mouth " I do"   
" you may now kiss the bride"   
Sansa turned to face him, she watched as his face lowered to hers and felt his cold lips peck hers.   
It didn't seem real to her.  
But the reality of the situation gripped her from the coldness of the silver ring wrapped tight against her finger. 

Sansa felt him sit beside her. She looked up to see his bare chest.   
" time for my rights as a husband" he rasped  
"As it please you, sir"   
Sansa stood and started harshly pulling of her clothing, flinging it to the floor until she stood before him nude. It was the first time he'd seen her fully.   
She watched as his eyes looked her all over, the darkness fill with desire.   
Hurry up and get over with it, she thought bitterly.   
Sandor grubbed the top of her arms and pulled her closer, she didn't resist.  
She felt his lips as he kissed her face and neck. She felt his hands snake her thighs. She didn't try to resist him, he was her husband now, but only as Alya stone. 

After he was finished he held on to her tightly. The first time he had. " I do care about you, Sansa"   
Rape is a funny way of showing it, she thought to herself.   
" I promise I will protect you and the babe". He squeezed her tight once more then released his grip.   
Sansa lay awake, twisting the silver ring around her finger.


	10. The conclusion

Characters belong to George RR Martin

 

She was sure, she was due any day now. She couldn't believe the size of her stomach and the powers of the kicks inside her stomach.  
They had settled in a little village, Sandor said his mothers parents had lived there. He said they all feared the Clegane's, so they'd keep their mouths shut. They had settled above a cavern, he had threatened the widow into silence.  
Sandor worried for Sansa, she looked like she could pop. He paid a midwife to examine her, she confirmed his fears.  
"You need to deliver this babe soon, before it gets any bigger"  
Sansa couldn't hide her fear.  
"What can I do? To bring on labour?"  
"Plenty of walking can help, food with spice..."  
"I know a better method" Sandor interrupted  
She looked him up and down in disgust "I'm sure you do, ser" she made no effort to hide the distain from her voice.  
Sandor saw her out. He turned to face Sansa.  
"Take your clothes off" he demanded  
She looked up at him, like a deer before an arrow "please, don't" she pleaded  
He sighed, frustrated at her lack of cooperation. "That baby is getting too big, you wanna die in child birth?"  
"No"  
"We need to do it then" he said gruffly  
" I want to try the midwives recommendations"  
Haha he forced. "All bullshit, little bird"  
Sansa just stood before him, tense.  
He wasn't in the mood to fight or force her, but he would if he had too.  
"I don't want you to die in agony, like Gregor's last wife. 15 pound her babe was, pair of em died"  
Sansa could see, he wasn't giving her a choice. She stifled her cry, biting her lip, as she watched her small clothes fall to the floor.  
"I'll be gentle" his famous last words. 

She would refuse to voice he was right, but he was. Soon after he took his pleasure, the pain started. It was tolerable to begin, but 3 hours down the line, she paced. She paced around the room, stopping every so often to pant. She wished she had her mother to guide her.  
She didn't know how much longer it had been, but it felt like a life time. The pain intensifying, minutes apart. She paced little, before she had to stop, she'd cling to the nearest object for dear life and scream with the contraction. She didn't know what to do with herself. Sandor just watched her, clueless. 

As she screamed more frequent, he left to get the midwife. She hated him, even more for leaving her. On there return, Sandor remained outside, a skin of wine in hand. He hated listening to the screams. 

It wasn't long after, the screams stopped and a deep cry filled the silence. As he entered the room. He saw Sansa in the bed, cuddling a very large babe.  
"It's a boy" said the midwife "10 pound, longest babe I've ever delivered" with that, she took her money and left.  
As Sandor sat beside her, he saw his sons jet black hair. There was no mistaking him, he was a Clegane, through and through.  
Sansa longed to call him Eddard or Ned. But knew he'd never allow it.  
"You thought of names?" He asked gruffly "no" she lied  
"Denny" he said  
"Why that name?" Asked Sansa. She felt indifferent to it.  
"God of wine"  
Sandor never asked to hold his son. She never saw him so much as look at his own son. 

It was hard for her at first, caring for a newborn. Sandor never helped her and she had no servants or nannies. But she did what she had too. She got on with it.  
3 months had passed when they finally left the cavern, when the weather had finally picked up. Sansa wore Denny in a sling. 

 

They both saw the soldiers galloping towards them. Sansa couldn't believe her eyes when she saw it, a stark banner. Before either Sansa or Sandor could react, she saw an arrow pierce Sandor's neck. He fell forward onto his horse, he looked up and saw, Jon stark approaching. He knew them blasted villagers had something to do with this. He gripped his horse tight and kicked it firm, leaving Sansa behind. 

Sansa watched, as Jon slowed beside her.  
"Sansa"  
She didn't realise, she was crying, until he wiped a tear from her cheek.  
"I'm so glad to see you" she said, choked up.  
Jon spotted the baby. "That must be Denny Clegane, I heard all about him" he said seriously  
The words of a disgruntled midwife had travelled far, a babe Clegane, largest babe ever saw, born to a red haired beauty, hardly a woman bled.  
Jon offered safety, to the cavern woman and soon the answers came.  
"I know what he did to you, Sansa" Said Jon sadly. "I'm here now"  
Sansa couldn't believe the change in Jon, he was a man now. She felt so proud of him.  
She listened as Jon summoned two men to his side "Find Sandor Clegane, he couldn't go far with an arrow to the neck" 

They never did find, Sandor Clegane. They presumed him dead. As the years passed, the family had slowly reunited. Denny was accepted, he had the appearance of a Clegane, but he had the heart of a Stark and that's what won people over. He was raised as a lord. Eventually, as the king of the north, Jon had Denny's surname changed to Stark. It didn't make a difference to Sansa, a name didn't change who his father was, or hide the fact he looked like him.  
Sansa eventually remarried, a son of a loyal banner man. It was a comfortable marriage, her husband accepted Denny, but he was no father to him, Jon took on that role. He knew what it was like, to be viewed as less valuable than everyone else, based on a parentage you couldn't control. Sansa counted Jon twice, when she counted her blessings. 

Denny was 10 when he saw him. "Mum" he said one night as he approached her.  
"A large man with a burned face approached me today"  
"Oh" said Sansa, she listened close, her heart in her throat "Do you know him?" Asked Sansa.  
"I've seen him loads, he makes swords. He said my name today, I asked him how he knew it"  
"What did he say?" She asked curious  
"He said, he'd recognise his son anywhere." He looked at her confused. "That's not right is it? My dad's not alive is he?"  
"Your dad died from an arrow to his throat" she said firmly "probably just a senile man" she tried to sound convincing.  
"Well, he said he was leaving today anyway. Going back to an island to pray, just wanted to see me first"  
Jon sent a fleet of men to look for him. But they didn't find anything. Jon doubted Denny, after all, who could forget seeing a 7 foot giant? No one recalled seeing such a man.  
But Sansa knew better, he'd survived that arrow to the neck. She was sure he'd be back again. Someday.


End file.
